


The Improbable Sorting of Oliver Queen

by writewithurheart



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/M, I have headcannons, I'm not entirely sure what happened, Magic, Tumblr Prompt, but enjoy, but enjoy this oneshot, far beyond this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 04:30:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: The Queens and Deardens have been going to Hogwarts since the founding. When Oliver Queen walks through the large doors, the expectations of generations rest on his shoulders. But regardless of where he ends up, he learns that some things are just meant to be.





	The Improbable Sorting of Oliver Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, so I was inspired to write this random oneshot by a conversation about which houses I thought the Arrow characters would be sorted into...which lead to this crack-ish fic as I started thinking "which houses COULD they be sorted into?" Normally, I would sort Oliver into Gryffindor, even if he's a bit more Slytherin after the island...which is kind of where this moves into the crackish realm...enjoy!
> 
> Shout out: the question was prompted by overwatchandarrow's fic "hold my hand (consign me not to darkness)", which is a spectacular fic of magic awesomeness that here is beautifully written and shaped! Only chapter 1 is up and i'm already hooked! Overwatchandarrow and Harry Potter? Yes please!

**The Improbable Sorting of Oliver Queen**

Oliver stepped into the Great Hall at the young age of 10, seeing the overwhelming room in all its glory for the first time. He’s a legacy, a pureblood whose family has been coming to Hogwarts since the founding. The Queens were Gryffindors through and through – fearless and stalwart. His mother’s side, the Deardens, were staunch Slytherins in each generation, and he’d heard more than a couple rumors wondering which house he would be sorted into.

Despite assurances from both his parents that it wouldn’t matter which house he was sorted into, Oliver couldn’t stop his fingers from rubbing together in a nervous tick as he stood in the mass of first years in front of the stool with the infamous Sorting Hat. It was singing, something about the houses, but he couldn’t hear over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.

“Calm down, Ollie,” Thomas whispers, his elbow digging into Oliver’s side to gain his attention. “It’ll be fine. No matter what.”

He nods shakily and wipes his hands on his robes as they start calling first years forward.

With each name, another member of the crowd disperses and Oliver loses another barrier against the hordes of students staring at the at him, waiting for him to step up to the stool.

He knows – deep down – that they don’t care, not nearly as much as he thinks they do, but it still gets to him.

“Queen, Oliver.”

He steps forward and climbs on the stool, staring at all the curious faces in the hall for just a moment before the hat is lowered down over his eyes.

This is it. The moment of truth. The moment he becomes a pawn in his parents’ ongoing war that masquerades as a political marriage. What love they had has waned over the years and he has no doubt that his placement today will become another tally mark in their tacit rivalry.

Everyone thinks it will be Gryffindor, that he takes after his father.

In truth, he’s just as surprised as they are when the hat finally shouts out his house:

“RAVENCLAW.”

…

“What is he doing here?”

“Come on, Jill, he’s got to be smart-“

“He stared blankly at Professor McGonogall for the whole class, Patty. I’m not sure he understood a word she said.”

Oliver sighs and closes his book with more force than necessary. It’s been like this for a year, ever since the great sorting incident where he was unexpected catapulted into the least likely house. Well, maybe not the least likely. Both his parents were up in arms, ready to take on the school to change his sorting. But Headmaster Dumbledore had refused though, had smiled and Oliver, made him feel like he wasn’t a failure for following his own path.

Classes weren’t easy. He just barely made it through his first year and the second year wasn’t shaping up to be any better. He excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Madame Hooch’s flight classes (which sadly over now that his first year was over), but all his other classes were just too boring. He couldn’t stare at books for hours on end and have any hope of absorbing the knowledge therein. He might be the first Ravenclaw in the history of Hogwarts to fail out of school.

The whispers behind his back haven’t helped.

“Hey, Kid. You Oliver Queen?” 

He blinks, looking up at the slight fifth year he’s only ever seen hanging around the common room. She’s gorgeous, and the seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He’s spent the last year avidly watching the school games from the sidelines, just waiting for the chance to try out for the team. He manages a nod as Shado Fei sits next to him.

“I heard you can handle yourself on a broom.”

Oliver leans back in his chair, trying to hide his eagerness, to quell his hope that his time is finally coming. “Yeah.”

“You look like you’d make a good catcher. With a little training.”

He swallows thickly. “Wh-when are try outs?”

“No try-outs, Queen. Meet me and Chase at the Quidditch pitch night. Seven. Don’t be late.”

…

On the Quidditch Team, Oliver finally felt himself at home. He wasn’t book smart, but he never lets a ball get past him into the hoops. Ravenclaw stops losing every game. His popularity sky rockets and suddenly he’s not at a loss for a tutor.

He’s still the outcast of Ravenclaw tower – an idiot in a sea of geniuses – but he grows into his own skin, starts hanging out with Tommy in Hufflepuff again, as well as his fellow badger, John Diggle.

Shado takes him under her wing. Adrian Chase, catcher, never really bonds with Oliver. They’re teammates, but he refuses to help his co-captain train him. So Shado recruits the Hufflepuff captain and her boyfriend, Slade Wilson.

They’ve got a couple years on him, but Oliver finds that he fit in comfortably well into their group.

…

His life takes another turn when a small blonde unexpectedly falls into his lap, quite literally.

He’s studying in the common area, trying to work his way through the first chapter of his potions textbook when there’s a sudden crash, a squeak, and then a warm body lands in his lap.

“I am so sorry,” a bright voice says, scrambling to pick up books that have to weigh more than she does. She’s a first year he vaguely remembers from the sorting ceremony. She’s always surrounded by more books than he thought the library had. “I didn’t mean to fall on you.” She laughs awkwardly as she pushes her glasses up her nose. “Well, it’s not like I would intentionally fall on you. You’re Oliver Queen. Star Catcher. I could fall on you with all my clumsiness and break something. On you. Not me. Well, I could break me, because you’re all jock-like and muscle-y, and I’m all...nerdy. Anyway, I am eternally sorry. Please don’t smite me.”

Oliver’s lips quirk. “Smite you?”

She turns bright red and brushes her hair behind her ear. “Well, yeah, um, I’m just going to go…over there…where I can’t embarrass myself anymore.”

He doesn’t know how to deal with her brightness as his eyes follow her across the room where she opens a book that looks suspiciously like his third year Transfiguration book. He shakes his head and turns back to his own work with a chuckle.

…

“I don’t know why you bother with textbooks.”

Oliver starts, nearly knocking over his goblet of orange juice as he’s rudely shocked out of his attempt to study. He’s been staring at the same paragraph for the last hour. Or that’s what it felt like. He glances over at his new visitor, the same blonde cannonball he met in the common room.

“I’m Felicity. Smoak. Felicity Smoak. First year. Muggleborn.”

Maybe he’s asleep and this is just a bizarre dream.

Felicity stares at him politely for a moment before turning to her plate with a shrug. In the absence of a response from him, she keeps up a steady stream of words. “I know everyone thinks you’re supposed to be in Gryffindor or something, but they’re obviously crazy. I mean, you’re a brilliant strategist. The way you work the goals on the Quidditch field. It’s meticulous. And I’ve seen you practicing your spellwork. It’s flawless. But you never do well with the books.”

Now that’s surprising.  He didn’t think anyone noticed that, especially not a little first year.

She continues on. “You should get someone to study with you, so you can see the spells demonstrated. Something interactive. You need a practical, hands-on approach. Like my best friend, Martha. She’s a muggle, and she’s crazy smart.” She pauses. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

Oliver shuts his book. “All I got out of that was that I should stop studying.”

She grins at him. “Yup.” She speaks between bites. “You need someone to bounce things off of. Or multitasking. Like playing chess. Do you play chess? You’d probably be good at it. Are you good at it? I have a board in my room if you want to try that. It’s not wizard chess but it’s a cool set my mom got me for my birthday.”

Which is how Oliver learned how to play chess.

…

“Spill, Ollie: who’s the chick?”

“Hmmm?” Oliver asks, eyes focused on the chessboard between him and Tommy. It’s summer and they’ve been spending it all together, as usual. Only this year, Thea is following them around, begging them to share stories of Hogwarts as she starts in the fall.

“The girl. You know, the one I saw hugging you at the train station.” Tommy raises an eyebrow. “Tiny. Blonde. First year.”

“Oh, Felicity.”

Tommy looks unimpressed. “Yeah, Felicity. Who is she?”

“A friend.”

It seems that answer isn’t going to fly. Thomas isn’t having any of his nonsense.

He gives in as he moves his next piece. “She’s helping me study.”

“She’s like nine.”

“She turns twelve in two months,” Oliver says defensively. “And she’s already ahead of us in most of her classes.”

Tommy stares at him for a moment before his lips spread in a grin. “Can’t wait to meet her.”

“Wait. What?” Oliver herks his eyes away from the board.

“If she got your grades up, that’s got to be a good thing, right? And it sounds like she’s pretty awesome.”

Oliver shifts uneasily, unsure why he’s hesitant about Tommy befriending Felicity. He smiles instead. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

…

“…and then he jumped in front of the car, glowing purple, shooting sparks and shouting ‘I AM THE  LORAX’.”

Felicity throws her head back in a laugh as Oliver slides into the seat across from her and Tommy, scowling as he recognizes the ending of story. This. This is why it’s a bad idea for Felicity and Tommy to be friends. They’ll just feed off each other. Not to mention, he didn’t introduce them. He’s been avoiding it since classes started again.

“He didn’t!” Felicity protests with a glance at Oliver. Whatever she sees in his face renews her giggles. “Did you really? And did you try to stop people from cutting down trees?” 

“Nope! He didn’t even know what a Lorax was until a week later when my mother showed us the book.” 

Great. So they’re reliving his most embarrassing moments. It’s exactly what he didn’t want. 

But Felicity’s bright laugh swells his heart and Oliver can’t bring himself to be angry about it. “It was our first time camping with Muggles.” 

Felicity swipes at a tear from laughing to hard. “But how did you manage to turn purple?” 

Oliver levels and scowl at his best friend. The animosity of the event is long gone, but he still won’t drink anything his friend hands him ever again. “Tommy told me it was a new flavor of butterbeer.” 

“Oh, Oliver, and you believed him?” 

“I was five!” And the event was still brought up whenever the Merlyns and Queens got together. It was one of those things he couldn’t escape. 

Tommy cackles. “I forgot about that part. But that was how Oliver got his first reprimand for performing magic in front of muggles.”

“Does a reprimand count if your father’s Minister of Magic?” John Diggle asks as he sits next to Oliver and jumping into the conversation. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s worse,” Tommy inputs. “If I ever got a reprimand, it wouldn’t matter that my father works for the Ministry. They would never find my body.” 

Felicity snorts. “My mother would congratulate me. You should have seen her when I got my letter. I lost hearing from her squeal. She keeps begging me to do magic while at home over the summer.” 

Oliver shakes his head, used to babbles of Donna Smoak, overexcited human being. “Donna’s great.” 

Two surprised sets of eyes focus on him as Felicity groans aloud. “Right.  _ Donna _ . Did you know Oliver called my house to set up a study time this summer and talked to my  _ mother _ ? For HOURS? About magic!” 

Oliver shrugs, refusing to feel guilty. He liked Felicity’s mom. Tommy and Digg however are staring at him like he grew a second head. “I liked talking to Donna.” 

Felicity groans. “Of course he does! Then she found out about owls and they’re  _ penpals _ .” 

It’s actually refreshing talking to an adult without the weight of expectation that comes with being a Queen. Not to mention, Felicity’s technically also his pen pal. It was her writing that inspired Donna to add her own letters into the mix. One of the first things she asked was that he look after Felicity at school, and how could he possibly say no to that? 

“You write to me too.” 

“Dude!” Tommy exclaims. “Those are two entirely different things.” 

Digg nods in agreement, looking at him thoughtfully. He’s not really a fan of that scrutinizing gaze, so he averts his own, suddenly finding his plate fascinating. 

It’s then that Felicity kicks him under the table and he lifts his eyes to meet hers. She smiles at him. “Honestly, talking with you has helped my mom deal with the whole wizard thing, so...thank you.” 

He smiles back. “Any time.” 

… 

Felicity becomes such a fixture in his life that Oliver doesn’t realize it at first, not until Laurel Lance of all people points it out to him. 

It’s their fifth year and they’re studying for the O.W.L.S. in the Library. Oliver doesn’t hang out with a lot of Gryffindors, but ever since Laurel Lance - Gryffindor Prefect - started dating Tommy Merlyn, she’s been known to tag along to their study sessions to keep the boys working. 

“So where’s your sidekick?” 

Oliver blinks at her, starting as her words pull him from the nap he almost fell into while reading his history book. “What?” 

“The blonde? Felicity?” Laurel asks, tilting her head at him. 

He frowns. “I don’t know. She said something about a date.” 

Laurel pauses mid-nod. “Date? I thought you two were dating?” 

“What?” Oliver nearly laughs as the question takes him by surprise. “Me and Felicity? Why would you think that?” 

“Well, you’re always together,” Laurel says, holding up a finger as though she’s going to list a bunch of reasons. Oliver looks to Tommy for help, but to his astonishment his friend just grins wickedly. “You both smile and stare at the other when they’re not looking,  you’re always touching -  _ always _ \- you’re besties with her mother, you lean into when she talks, you look at her the way my mom looks at chocolate, and you’re completely in love with her.” 

Oliver’s mouth hangs open in a dumbfounded stupor. 

No. That can’t be true… 

Tommy just shakes his head and pats Laurel on the back. “I think you broke him.” 

“I…” Oliver can’t think of a single thing to say. Because everything Laurel’s said...it’s all things he’s never thought about before. They just were. Felicity made him smile, laugh. She liked him for more than just his Quidditch ability and last name. She saw him for who he was. She knew him better than anyone else, including Tommy. 

He pauses to think about it, to think about her role in his life. She’s his best friend. And so much more, more than he can put into  words. She’s been spending more time with Cooper and it’s thrown him for a loop. He’s been irritable, doing worse at practice, found himself staring at the study guide she made for him with longing...is that what this is?

Love? 

“That’s not…” he starts, his body screaming denial. But he can’t. His tongue refuses to deny her and Oliver falls back into his seat in shock. “Shit.” 

Laurel reaches out to pat his hand sympathetically and Tommy just laughs. 

“It’s about time you figured that out.” 

… 

Oliver spends the whole night staring at the ceiling above his bed, ruminating on Laurel’s epiphany. He’s in love with Felicity Smoak, his best friend, the magical genius. He misses her every second they’re apart, and his day isn’t complete until he’s seen her smiling face. Now that he thinks on it, he’s been more surly since she’s been spending time with Cooper. 

It’s like the early days of his crush on Shado, before he kissed her after a Quidditch match. He was jealous of the time she spent with Slade, of their flirtation, and he took it out on others. His crush had been brutally, well, crushed when Slade punched him for kissing his girlfriend. That had been a spectacular incident that Oliver was happy to be finally past. 

Somewhere along the way, he healed from that and fell in love with his best friend.

The primal part of him, the part that just acts, wants to race to herr side and declare his feelings, to see her reaction. The rest of him knows better, knows he can’t possibly to that. She would never forgive him for being so rash. He needs to be smarter with this, to think this through. 

Because he can’t lose her. He can’t lose his best friend.

By the time the sun rises, he has a plan. 

He won’t say anything. Cooper makes her happy, so he will be happy for her, for them. As long as Cooper doesn’t break her heart. 

… 

Oliver walks out of his last practical exam - Potions - with a bright smile, eyes darting around for Felicity, who promised to be here waiting for him. Her blonde hair and glasses are conspicuously absent as he stands there for a moment before Tommy sweeps him off in a victory cheer. 

She’s not milling around the Ravenclaw common room, or the library, or their spot by the lake. He’s running out of places to check when he remembers the shortcut behind the statue of Merlin. He knows it’s the right place before he sees her. The passageway was dark, but he can hear her sobs. Each little whimper breaks his heart as he moves closer.  

“Felicity,” he says softly, lighting his wand as he moves further into the passage. 

“O-o-oliver?” 

He drops to the floor beside her and pulls her into a hug, letting her sob into his shirt. He wants to ask her what happened, to find out what Cooper did and punch him in the face, but more than that: he just wants to be there for her. 

They sit there, long past the time they’re supposed to be back in their dorms, Oliver offering silent comfort as bits and pieces of the story come out. Cooper’s betrayal. How he took her spell, the one that allowed Muggle technology to merge with magic, and used it to reach beyond his capabilities. He’s not sure of the context, not as familiar with Muggles’ devices, but  Cooper got into trouble and then turned it on Felicity, blamed it on her. 

He just sits there, as the girl he loves mourns her broken heart, and does the only thing he can: he listens. 

… 

“How’s she doing?” 

Oliver drags his eyes from Felicity where she sits talking with Sara Lance at the Gyffindor table. Apparently she needs some girl talk. “She’s still hurting, but she’s getting better.” 

“And I noticed Cooper’s got a black eye.” 

His observation is met with a nondescript grunt. Oliver may have found Cooper on the train talking about  Felicity. And after listening to her cry for a good portion of the summer, Oliver was more than a little short on compassion for the ass hole. So maybe he lost his temper. And maybe he did throw a punch or two. 

Digg sighs. “I’m Head Boy now, Oliver. I can’t condone that kind of behavior.” 

“You’ll notice I didn’t confirm anything.” 

Digg nods. “Well, if it was you, nice punch.” 

He grins down at his breakfast. “It was, wasn’t it?” 

… 

There’s a room of celebrating Ravenclaws between them, but Oliver only has eyes for the stunning blonde who’s finally smiling again. A true, uninhibited smile that he hasn’t seen in months. Finally, Cooper is out of their lives. 

“You finally going to ask her out?” Tommy asks, taking a sip of butterbeer. He’d snuck into Ravenclaw tower with Oliver earlier after the Quidditch game. “You’ve been staring at her all day. You almost let a goal in.” 

“Almost,” Oliver allows, recalling how he snatched the quaffle just inches from the goal. It had been close, and not the intentional kind of close where he let the other team think they had a shot. He’d been distracted. 

“So?” Tommy nudges Oliver in the ribs. “Ask her out.” 

Oliver grins at him and starts across the room. In the time it takes him to navigate the fans offering their congratulations, she’s enthralled in deep conversation. He hadn’t been able to see him across the room, but she’s speaking with Ray Palmer, talking animatedly about her latest project, her attempt to bring the internet to Hogwarts. 

She spots Oliver and smiles in passing before continuing a conversation that he can’t follow and Oliver blends back into the crowds, wishing the butterbeer had more of a kick. 

… 

“Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

“Give it a rest, Tommy. She’s interested in Palmer.” 

“Only because you haven’t said anything. She’d drop the toothpick if you said the word.” 

“He’s good for her. He understands her.” 

Laurel shakes her head in disgust. “You’re an idiot.” 

Oliver finds that he can’t argue against that. 

… 

“Happy Birthday, Felicity!” 

She’s fifteen today, and the cake on the table - the one she’s delightfully surprised about - was his idea. The whole party really, although he’s placing the blame on Sara for this one if anyone asks. He even invited Ray Palmer and Barry Allen, the adorkable wizards who’ve been flirting with her because all he wants is to make this day the best ever. From the notes he had delivered throughout the day, to her favorite treats during lunch. 

Digg and Tommy both think he went overboard, but he hadn no choice. Last year, her birthday was overshadowed by the pain of Cooper’s betrayal, but this year he wanted to make it special. She’s so amazing so this day should be just as amazing. 

“Oliver?” 

He smiles at her, handing her a piece of cake. “Hey. How was your day?” 

“It was amazing,” she says, moving closer to him, invading his personal space. “I had a wonderful angel that left me gifts, but never signed a note. Any idea who that could have been?” 

Her hand trails lightly up his arm,  not taking the piece of cake as she continues to touch him, moving closer. He can smell her perfume, a light floral scent. His breath catches in his  throat and he has to swallow a couple times before he can speak. 

“No idea.” 

“See, I think you’re lying, Oliver. I think you know exactly who sent those gifts.” 

He can’t breathe as she rises up on her toes and presses a kiss to his cheek with a whispered. “Thank you.” 

There’s a moment of regret there, just a moment, where he wishes she’d sealed her lips to his instead of to his cheek. It’s a moment, but it reverberates in time. A moment that could have been more. 

His hand reaches out as if to touch, but he pulls it back. 

Felicity gets all of three steps away before she stops. “Screw it,” she says before she turns and grabs him by the front of his robes. “You might be the best strategist I’ve ever seen, but if you don’t kiss me right now, Oliver Queen, you are the stupidest man I’ve ever met.” 

It takes a few precious seconds for the words to sink through his thick skull, but they feel like hours. His heart races and it’s hard to breathe because he never expected to find himself here. His hands move first, reaching up  to cup her face gently before he leans down. 

Her lips are soft against his, and then she yanks him closer by his robe and Oliver takes the hint to deepen the kiss, moving his lips against hers as his arms encircle her waist and pull her as close as possible. 

Their friends might be cheering for them, Tommy might say ‘it’s about time’, and Digg probably says something caustic, but Oliver can’t hear a word of it. 

He’s busy thanking the universe for the strange twist of fate that threw him into Ravenclaw, and into the path of the illustrious Felicity Smoak.


End file.
